


Online Latvian Girlfriend Probz

by FrenchTwistResistance



Series: I’ve Always Been Crazy But It’s Kept Me from Going Insane [18]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, I just want caos to be a sitcom where hot middle-aged ladies kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 08:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24467851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchTwistResistance/pseuds/FrenchTwistResistance
Summary: What happens after a cockfight. Or perhaps a different cockfight entirely.
Relationships: Hilda Spellman & Zelda Spellman, Hilda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Hilda Spellman/Original Mary Wardwell
Series: I’ve Always Been Crazy But It’s Kept Me from Going Insane [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597594
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Online Latvian Girlfriend Probz

Hilda’s pacing in the overgrown weeds that are tickling her exposed and vulnerable ankles. She’d chosen her dark denim pedal pushers and comfy faux-Cordovan oxfords before she could have reasonably suspected where she might end up today.

She cuts her eyes over, sees that Lilith has plopped herself into the rim of the largest remaining tractor tire, reclining with crossed legs and smiling smugly or maybe naughtily—some kind of an assholehish gleam there that suggests she’s rather enjoying this predicament.

In the other direction, Mary’s rigid with her hands clenched into fists in the pockets of her pleated slacks. Zelda’s standing a few feet away from Mary, and she’s got one eyebrow raised and her hands on her hips.

This is quite the tableau, Hilda thinks although she’s admonishing herself for thinking that instead of thinking of ways to extricate herself from this situation. She’s got to figure out a plan, quicker than bunnies—figure out what to say in what sequence, whom to address in what order to appease curiosities while also exonerating herself. She’s got to figure out how to say something that will be truthful and yet not truthful enough to satisfy the conflicting assumptions Mary and Zelda so obviously have. 

She ought not have to strategize this way. She ought to just be able to just be and let the chips fall where they may and blithely go on, delight in Lilith’s assholishness with her. But alas that’s not how her life has turned out. She has responsibilities and relationships and secrets and other people’s perceptions to navigate.

Hilda opens her mouth. She’s screwed her courage to the sticking place and is about to tell the whole truth. It’s the simplest and best way to satisfy them all, although it will hurt temporarily—and probably long-term, as well, where Zelda is concerned, Hilda thinks. 

But before she can speak, Zelda does:

“Online Latvian Girlfriend, hmm?” She shifts her weight, looks pointedly toward Lilith and then back toward Hilda. “It’s a shame you haven’t brought her to a family dinner. I’m eager to meet anyone who might be important to you.”

“Khearly stages khyet,” Lilith says, not cowed in the slightest. Zelda’s head snaps to her, and she stomps a few steps closer. They square off, staring at each other.

“Not so early a stage as to preclude you from groping my sister underneath her blouse,” Zelda says.

“Whkhell. A whkhwoman has needs.” Lilith winks at Hilda, Hilda blushes, and Zelda scoffs.

“Arkhe khyou prrrotective or dzjealous?”

“The presumption! The audacity!” Zelda says.

Hilda grinds her teeth. She has not been able to control the situation; in fact it’s gotten completely out of hand. She doesn’t know whether Zelda’s put all the pieces together quite yet, but she knows it’s just a matter of time. And besides that, Mary’s still here, still roiling with her own confusion. She looks over at her, and Mary’s watching the unfolding scene and unclenching and clenching again her hands in her pockets. 

“Sometimes you’ve just got to roll the hard six,” Mary says mostly to herself as she shakes her head. 

Mary levels her jaw, looks straight into Hilda’s eyes as she says, “A few days ago I got a postcard from—an acquaintance—in Saratoga. He said I was welcome to lose some money playing the ponies, but I ought not bring ‘The Buxom Blonde’ who’d settled my debts.” Mary and Hilda look at each other for a long moment. Lilith and Zelda have switched their focus and are now looking at them looking at each other. And then Mary resumes:

“I’ve got a blank space where months of my life ought to be. That’s enough of a tar baby in itself. Why can’t I remember what I don’t remember? Why do I feel that it’s better not to remember? Why and when and where and who and what and how of that missing time… 

“But I’ve also got a five-grand horse racing debt that’s somehow mysteriously free and clear. And now I’ve got a skinny old man who runs an off-books sports betting joint I’ve infrequently visited whom I’ve seen maybe twice before in my life elbowing me in the ribs and telling me my ‘old lady’ has ‘got me covered.’” 

Mary pauses, clears her throat, pierces Hilda with her gaze. 

There’s a taut silence before Mary says,

“Am I wrong to have surmised that you and your Online Latvian Girlfriend doppelgänger of me have something to do with all this?”

“And am I wrong to have surmised that your Online Latvian Girlfriend that I’ve just found out about this evening is in real life actually the demon I’ve been impotently devoting my church to?” Zelda says.

Both Mary and Zelda are staring at her, ignoring each other and the details they’d revealed in favor of accusing her with their respective penetrating eyes, and it’s too much for Hilda. She turns her head, and Lilith is there in the steel rim of the tractor tire, smirking at her.

She turns back, closes her eyes.

“Neither of you are wrong in your suppositions.”

Hilda stands there, eyes closed, hands at her sides, waiting. She’s not sure what she’s waiting for. A slap in the face? A scathing verbal reprimand? A trip to the Cain pit?

Several seconds pass, and nothing happens. No one speaks. She finally opens her eyes to find both Mary and Zelda stunned and flabbergasted in their own ways.

She makes eye contact with Zelda, and Zelda visibly wills herself out of her stupor. She gestures toward Lilith, says,

“This is her doing! I should’ve trusted my instincts. Should’ve known better.” Zelda’s eyes are blazing. “I was right when I considered her just some itinerant slattern here for a good time rather than a long time, seducing you for her own pleasure, ready at any moment to kick you to the curb if something better came along.” Zelda redirects her ire to Lilith, continues: “But it wasn’t too long before you realized nothing better would come along. Could come along. That Hildegard is prime rib and you’ve got a taste for red meat. She’s too good for you. You’re a bag of dicks in a t-shirt and tennis shoes.”

“Um what?” Mary says, her eyes flitting to Zelda, to Hilda, to Lilith. Hilda sees and rather accidentally feels her fear. She crosses to her, takes her hand to steady her.

Lilith rises from the tractor tire.

“It would be in your best interest to restrain yourself, Miss Spellman,” Lilith says.

“And what might that accomplish?” Zelda says.

“I might decide to be merciful,” Lilith says.

Zelda laughs.

Hilda and Mary share a look. And then Hilda concentrates on Zelda. But then she looks at Lilith.

Hilda says,

“Oh quit it. You know you’re both just trying to protect me. And possess me.”

Lilith looks at her her, says,

“You forget how powerful I am, how much I control, how much I don’t have any reason to listen to you or acquiesce to you.”

“But you choose to oblige me anyway,” Hilda says. 

“Hildegard,” Zelda says, dark and deep and low. Hilda ignores her. Lilith ignores her. Mary doesn’t know what to ignore.

“Oblige you. That’s the very least of my worries,” Lilith says.


End file.
